The Rings of Argolas (for JadeRulez123)

[ofguilt]

The space station Argolas hung in the depths of neutral space. From afar, its circular docking ports looked deceptively fragile. Even up close, the illusion managed to keep most of its luster. The eight outer rings gleamed and rotated as if to boast of their stylized architecture. The structure served an accidental second purpose as well, to conceal the dingy inner docking bays and quarters. Most of the station residents considered that a 'happy' accident. For two worlds existed within the ringed structure of Argolas. Political intrigue, debauchery, scientific marvels, alliances, and parties took place in the outer rings each day. Dozens of species from a hundred worlds met, plotted, befriended one another.

The poor and homeless could all be found crouched in one of the two inner rings. Slick pirates, mercenaries, thugs, and spies added dangerous color to the gloom. The slave trade was a living force of fear, whispering its threat around every dark corner in these slums. Beatings, murder, and impromptu drug cartels circled through the corridors like a pulse. Most sane people avoided the place, particularly in the dark cycle. Rumors came up into the more opulent outer rings. People had gone to visit the slums and had disappeared without a trace. That alone was enough to keep most citizens out.

Despite that, it was night or 'dark cycle,' and two people who didn't belong in the dangerous part of town were lingering in the shadows for their own reasons.

------

The mercenary, Lohr, leaned against the pockmarked wall at the local bar. His posture was straight, arms folded, and his eyes as searching and cruel as he could make them. A heavy laser weapon hung at his belt. His angular face bore scars and a scowl to rival them. He might have been considered handsome in another life, but not, he thought, in this one. Not after all the care had been wrung out of him. He was called 'striking,' sometimes, but who wanted to be struck by anyone? People avoided him and that's how he wanted it.

Or at least, he managed to keep himself convinced of that. Most of the time.

Tonight, he was looking to pick up a slave. A man this time, not a woman. The buyer had left specific instructions for a presentable adult male in good condition. It wouldn't be the easiest catch here in Argolas, but Lohr didn't have a lot of time. He needed complex, expensive parts to upgrade his ship. That way he could get on to some real mercenary work. Slaving was a necessary evil, and there was plenty of 'necessary' and 'evil' here on this station.

Hopefully, the 'catch' would go quietly and without kicking up a lot of noise or fuss. He didn't have a lot of patience for hysterics right now. Not that he could blame the prospective slaves, considering where they'd end up. He'd seen it plenty of times. Torture or toil, and those were the better options. That didn't mean he was going to put up with dragging a brat across half a dozen star systems. He had his own remedy for that kind of behavior, and it didn't involve gentle coaxing.

His calloused fingers hooked up under his leather belt as if to emphasize that thought. While he did that, his gaze kept roaming the masses for a likely young man who met his criteria. So far he'd been standing here an hour with nothing to show for it. He'd just have to be patient for awhile longer and hope for some decent luck.

---------

Unlike Lohr, Gethen stuck out in the slums like a fish in a tree. One didn't see finely dressed ambassadors here in the worst corners of the inner rings, alone, without a single guard to watch his back, or a gun as a last resort. If that didn't look strange enough on its own, Gethen belonged to the alien species called Ikarians, or more correctly, the Ikarian Empire. His people (at least the upper class, to which Gethen belonged) were arrogant and cruel to a one. Rank and file. Even and especially the diplomatic branch. Perhaps some of them wanted in on the slave trade, but they would never be seen personally in the company of these rifraff. Most of them would have strode past the broken residents without once looking down at any of them.

Even if they were supposed to, Gethen thought to himself with no small amount of anger. Every single alien delegation had signed an agreement with the station. They would donate a certain amount of food or money to the poorer sector in return for other favors and privileges. Yet his own people pointedly ignored their own responsibility, and were allowed to do so. No one wanted to anger the Ikarian Empire, after all. Perish the thought! But, they couldn't stop him from using his own money to honor their agreement.

Well. They might have tried, if he'd informed the four senior ambassadors or any of the Ikarian guard. Instead he'd chosen to travel here alone, with a small amount of money, supplies, and only his ceremonial knife as a weapon. Foolish. Even he knew it, now that he'd arrived at his destination.

Now, if he'd been a brave, strong, arrogant Ikari, perhaps the denizens of the inner rings wouldn't be staring at him with so much desperation and hate. Their calculating eyes made his task so much harder. Even so, he forced himself to approach several huddled groups to give away the money and supplies. He tried as hard as he could to maintain kindness and compassion in his voice, instead of pity or fear. His words still trembled out of him every once in awhile. For he wasn't brave, or strong, or even confident in the face of such terrible things. Even the slaves on the Ikari homeworld were in better shape than most of these people.

That thought led to other, darker ones, and at last Gethen had to flee to an empty corner near the docking bays.

He wiped sweat from his high, domed forehead. That and the characteristic upswept ears, which began at his chin and curved like fitted crescents to his temples, marked him as Ikari. His pale skin had a golden undertone rather than a human's peach or brown, but otherwise his people appeared quite akin to humankind. His crimson robes with silver braids denoted him a diplomatic attache. But at this moment, he didn't feel like an Ikari or an ambassador. He felt quite foolish, full of guilt, fear, and bitter thoughts. All of that combined to wipe out his usual hopeful attitude. At least for a moment. A few breaths later he was standing up and ready to march out to his foolish task again, even if It meant facing danger and those terribly pitiful stares.

Well, hopefully not danger. He really couldn't fight, not at all.

After a last deep breath, Gethen began to navigate the empty, shadowy corridors back toward the people--or at least, he thought they were empty.

(all characters involved in sex are 18+)

[KingCrowley]

It seemed that no matter where Saron was able to finally feel grounded, he was transferred again within the next month. The tall, dark statistical...let's say man, stood at about six foot and waited around for his next transfer orders. He just really hoped that through some magical bit of luck that he wouldn't end up stuck on a ship following orders from a human. He would like to say that he had nothing against human's personally but that would be a lie. He was a half race, half human and half Kharial ( a race built and raised on the call of war ). Usually Kharial's didn't involve themselves with simple operations from the U.S.S. but being half human, Saron had a curious nature about him.

Saron loathed the human side of him, he believed that it made him weak and exposed to so much that a full blooded Kharial would never have to be. He hated his Kharial mother for marrying and mating with a human, but he does get along with both parents even if one happens to be an emotionless robot and the other, a stern handyman. Plus, he had a brother, Haktunrah who was full Kharial and he felt the human emotion 'jealousy' toward him, he had it all. Haktunrah was a high ranked General in the Delta fleet and well known for his blood shed in battle. He even had his own slave/pet ....and his name wasn't important.

It was natural for Kharial's to claim alien races less superior to they were and keep them as slaves, some were treated badly, and some were lavished with riches, it depended on who was Kharial to the sun birth, and Kharial to the moon birth, the one's born under the sun were usually the more ruthless, cruel kind. Whereas the Kharial's born under the moon were more likely to base themselves off intelligence and strategy. Though none of them really needed emotion to function, that was something that they believed to be weak, and they used logic to be able to control such feelings. Saron was unable to do this because one, he was half human, and two, he was born under the sun.

"Mr. Saron." Came a soft voice which broke Saron's current thinking and he turned to see a dark skinned man addressing him with some transfer orders.

"Yes Captain?" Saron answered, his tone lacking any trace of emotion, and was quite polite if not a little patronizing. He reached out a pale hand and took the orders into his possession. "Thank you."

"U.S.S Hangaurd. That mean's you're with me." Saron nodded his head and watched the man walk away. Sighing softly, the half Human shook his head. A Human, he was going to be serving on a human star ship. Great.

The tall Kharial was not happy with this arrangement, even if his emotions did nothing to aid that fact. He reached a free hand up and through his black hair, careful not to catch any bit of skin on either pointed horn, situated on top of his head. Kharial's were not all that different to human's in the features department. There were a few things to determine them from human's however, two of those being the small war horns on top of his mess of black slightly spiked hair and the slight length in his canine teeth, which made them appear more like fangs than anything else.

"And what have we here?" Saron asked himself catching sight of what looked like a young Ikari. The corridors he stood in were dark indeed, however this did not stop the Kharial's advanced eye sight from spotting the youth. Ikari's had proven to make effective slaves in the past, and he was eager to try out this theory first hand. Without giving the young man any warning, Saron strode over, and took his upper arm. "Consider yourself claimed." he said firmly. Saron's strength was almost unmatched by any other race and he was able to hold and keep a secure grip on Gethen, effectively. "What is your name, Ikari?"

* * * *

At the local bar where Lohr was currently hanging around, things were pumping as per usual, and there were the odd few stumbling about drunken. Among the crowd was a young brunette dressed in black and leather, holding a drink in one hand and raving with the other, by repeatedly trying to hit the ceiling. The kid looked no older than twenty five, and held a childish grin on his baby face. This was Alec and honestly he had no desire to join any sort of space based ship, or school or anything like that. He was a young human male just out for a good time, and wanting to live his life.

Eventually the song died down and the kid wandered over to a circle of young women, smiling like a cocky sod. "Hey there ladies, Alec Jones." he said sort of slurred considering he'd had a bit to drink, but even still he had the charm and he was a good looking young man in his strong features so naturally the women decided to give him a shot. Alec ended up spending the next fifteen seconds with one of the more tanned, blonde, and big chested young women, eating her face it looked more like. That was until he was roughly shoved against one of the walls by a much stronger looking man, who seemed to have a trace of some other alien race about him.

"What ya think you're doing, kissing my girl?!" he demanded and kept him there in that threatening position, his hand gripping the front of his shirt which hoisted the smaller man off of his feet.

"Look dude, if she was completely satisfied with you, she wouldn't be going round kissing other blokes, now would she?" Alec asked, smirking and giving him a sort of patronizing look. "Maybe, if you could still 'get it up' old man, she might be still interested."

Alec managed to get himself in a dangerous situation by saying that, and he found himself yelping in pain when he was socked across the face by the other man's fist, and then flung across the room, hitting his head against the wall that Lohr was standing close by. The brunette never really knew when to stay down and he staggered to his feet, a scowl on his face and a dark look in his soft blue eyes. "That....that all you got?" he asked and then ran at the older man, giving him a punch in return and watching as he stumbled forward.

One thing Alec obviously didn't count on, was that the older man had friends, friends who were able to stand on his side. Alec was used to taking on the world alone, having been orphaned when he turned thirteen, he just sort of made his own way in life, provided with a monthly allowance from a rich but uncaring great aunt. The trouble making brunette took a nervous step back when he was now faced with three opponents. Somehow, two of them managed to slam him down on a table, on his back, and pin him there. It was then that the man he offended in the first place walked over and began repeatedly punching Alec across the face, until there was blood on his knuckles and currently running down Alec's nose and to his lips.

[ofguilt]

Gethen attempted to retrace his steps through the narrow corridors. Misleading shadows drenched the walls and lengthened with each passing hour. A sigh rose up from a pile of crates, just once. Was it a person, or the poor ventilation playing tricks? He thought of stopping to take a closer look, but his fear kept him at a brisk walk around corners. Familiar corners? Well, he hoped so. He couldn't be sure. The station council refused to waste energy on beggars and squatters. Therefore, lights faded from half-power to ten percent power as the dark cycle wore on. Almost like planetary night. Well, without a guiding moon.

At last voices reached his sensitive ears. Gethen stopped and leaned forward on his toes (a habit, as he was quite short for an Ikari, despite eminently tall relatives.) He ran hasty fingers through his coiffed bangs as if ruining his hair would help him to peer better into the gloom. It didn't. However, he did manage to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. Every third word or so. Even those snippets were enough to bring relief flooding into his tensed body. That conversation was quite impersonal, rational even, without a hint of violence or cruelty.

So, he turned toward the voices and kept them as his beacon through the inner ring. Perhaps he would find himself a guide after all, a kind soul from another species who might escort him to safety. Or, at least, offer him a map. Gethen could even turn this encounter into a story to support his diplomatic aims later on. If anyone in the inner sector was willing to help an Ikari, peace might be possible throughout the entire galaxy! Well, or at least within the Argolas station itself. He had to start small. Very small, as suited an attache. Still, he meant to do good here someday. His people found him soft and contrary to their society's dictates, but he very much shared their stubborn nature.

Then he rounded a corner was suddenly in the grip of a Kharial. He tried to backpedal. Both his eyes and eyebrows widened, almost to a silly extent. But there wasn't any trace of humor in his shocked voice.

"Solari!"

No, he realized his mistake immediately. The shadows along the man's face had tricked him into a false recognition. Besides, this couldn't possibly be his father's most treasured slave. The one with the cold, dead eyes which had always seemed to follow Gethen as a child. He'd been terribly frightened of Solari, but at the same time horrified at his father's treatment of his (supposedly) most precious treasure. His brothers, sister, and aunt shared that same violent passion. Half the time, when Gethen first looked at an alien, he couldn't help but see a terrible memory of his own before actually seeing the person. Ikarians believed in very public torments for their slaves and prisoners. And they tended to collect all kinds.

His arms and hands flailed about, trying to correct the error before he could find the words to do so.

"Oh. Oh, never mind! You see, I thought you were Solari. We met before. I mean, I knew him. That is..."

Before he managed a cleverer response, the Kharial said something about 'claiming' him. Gethen just stared. No one had ever dared attempt to capture the son of an aristocrat. Even an awkward, backward one such as himself. He didn't even understand what the Kharial meant at first.

"Do-do you mean 'rescued?' I admit, I'm surprised! I know our species don't usually see eye to...eye."

Gethen swallowed, and glanced down at that hard hand gripping his shoulder. The truth of the matter dawned on him very slowly.

He aimed a sudden kick at Saron's lower leg, an attempt to trip him more than anything. Then he swung around and shoved the Kharial as hard as he could. It was sheer desperation. He'd apologize later if he was wrong. Now, he just had to get away. Before he ended up like the dead eyed things that adorned his father's house. Or worse, like the corpses one found in the lower decks near the start of every light cycle. He fought with the sheer hope of escape against the stronger man. But, even if he could break free for just a moment, he could easily be captured again.

---------------------

Lohr had begun to feel like a piece of furniture in the damned bar. He was tarnished, faded, and ill-placed, just like the hodgepodge tables and chipped wine glasses. Impatience burnt a slow itch beneath his severely crossed arms. Maybe he'd made a mistake, coming here. Every young man, alien or otherwise, had some kind of flaw. He needed a full-value purchase price. Someone worth the money in anyone's eyes.

That's when the newcomer caught his attention. Caught it, and held it. He watched the carefree youth throw back his head and laugh, studied the smooth curve of his throat a bit too closely. No. This wouldn't do at all. He had to be impersonal and catalogue useful details. Human male, the right age. Handsome enough to fetch a good price and in fine condition for someone who lived in the inner rings. Obviously a brat, he thought, as he watched him drink and debauch his way into a kiss. Attitude problem. But, the slavers sometimes considered that an asset. They liked to break the potential slaves themselves. Never mind that this man reminded him of an impudent angel fallen out of a painting, one that had decided it liked carousing with the devils.

A smile flickered on Lohr's hard face and died there. Now he had to figure out a way to approach the boy.

Then the thug and his goons wrested that chance away from him. He growled low in his throat as the group took to thrashing him. Not that he didn't richly deserve it. But, if the boy took severe damage to the face, that would greatly reduce his value in the eyes of the slavers. Lohr eased off the wall and made a slow approach to the scene. He ran through several possibilities and discarded them. Couldn't buy the gang off, not with the meager bit of money he was carrying. Couldn't outgun them. Besides, that kind of fight would draw the wrong kind of attention to his presence here.

The seeds of an idea sprouted all of a sudden. His hand wound its way into his faded military coat, one he'd worn since he quit the space force years ago. Yep, his old I.D. was still wedged in the inner breast pocket. Now he'd put that old bit of history to the test. Hopefully, these thugs wouldn't be interested at peering too closely at the fine print to find the more than dated expiration listed there. Not if he kept them jumping. So he pulled out his I.D. and strode into the fray.

"Hold it right there!" The old tone came back to him easier than he'd expected. "Step away from that boy. By order of the Space Service, I'm putting him under arrest. He's up on pretty dangerous charges."

That wouldn't intimdate the men, of course. "He's accused of spreading a deadly level nine infection all around the inner levels. Spread by physical contact. That's right. You'd all better get your asses to a doctor. If I understand it right, you've got about an hour before the rot sets in. You'll be fine if they catch it quick enough."

Lohr made a show of putting on his gloves before leaning over to yank Alec off the table. "You're coming with me."

[KingCrowley]

Saron was admittedly confused when Gethen gave him a false name, perhaps he reminded someone he once knew, how droll. He studied the young Ikari before him with his soft green eyes and not with a coldness, but with a curiosity that was all thanks to his half human side. If he was a full Kharial he probably would have given Gethen a paralysis grip to render him helpless for a certain amount of time. He of course was able to do that even being half of his race, but his simply opted not to, maybe he wanted to give Gethen chase, it wasn't really clear to him why he was still letting the youth stand.

The Kharial stood, watching the young man suddenly flail his arms and mention that he had made a mistake. "Indeed." he answered, though not entirely coldly. It was at that point, Saron decided he was pleased with his catch, and he curled his skinny fingers around Gethen's upper arm and pronounced that he had claimed him. Usually such words were recognized as a slave claim across the galaxy but apparently Gethen was unaccustomed to that tradition. Meaning he would need to break him like a prized Stallion if he had any hope of making him into a useful slave.

Kharial's born under the sun took to mercilessly whipping new slaves, sometimes with a cat o' nine tails which happened to be his brother's preferred choice of weapon. But being half human, Saron could see the cruelty in that, and like his Father had done one to him, he had decided long ago that in order to break a slave, he would discipline him. He recalled being over his human Father's knee for a thorough hiding once or twice in his youth. That was something he took to heart and decided that would be his method of discipline to both punish, and break his new slave.

Apparently though, the 'slave' was obviously not aware he was going to be such a thing, and asked if he was there to rescue him. That confused Saron yet again and he glanced around, frowning a little bit. "You are in danger?" he asked but then before he could really properly get across his concern, he was kicked in the shin. Obviously due to the shock, Saron released his hold on the younger man to see to the wound he'd been given.

Then he was shoved and the half Kharial managed to lose his balance and fall back, giving the young man perfect chance to escape. Oh but Saron was not going to give up that easily and he darted after the young man, and gripped his arm tight enough to hurt a little. "I did try to act in kind, and now I have no choice but to paralyze you." he informed, hesitating a moment before turning the young man to the side and then delivering an almighty powerful smack to his clothed rear. That should shock him for a moment. Taking the opportunity of his surprise, Saron walked closer and gripped the place between his neck and shoulder.

It took maybe three seconds for the young man to fall unconscious and Saron watched him fall to the floor like a sack of rocks. "Honestly, if you had just complied, things would be much easier." he sighed, knowing the young man couldn't hear him. "Come." he hoisted the lithe man over his shoulder and then made his way to one of the shuttles to take him out to a less crowded space station, after all he didn't need to begin his transfer for another few days yet. Perfect time to break in his new.....pet.

Once aboard the shuttle, Saron put the 'sleeping' young man down on the floor and then sat down at the controls. Eventually he began the two hour journey to the next space station. Unfortunately Gethen would recover from the paralysis within the next half hour. Too bad he couldn't really go anywhere.


* * *

Alec spluttered as he was slammed down on the base of the table, his back taking the impact and his head sort of hung off the side, he couldn't really do much to block the repeated attacks to his face and he found himself growing dizzy due to the impact and he continued to try and struggle, he wasn't just going to admit defeat. Even if the man mercilessly beating him into unconsciousness gave him a chance to say sorry, he would have declined and rather had blacked out. It was times like this that Alec was grateful for the fact that he could certainly take a punch, and this hadn't been the first fight he'd been in, not by a long shot. It seemed the cocky young man could push a few buttons, and he knew just how to get a fight if he wanted it or not.

The man punching him over and over narrowed his eyes, this guy was tough for his age, usually most men would have blacked out by now or admitted surrender. He wasn't admired by Alec's strength, but more annoyed really that he wasn't submitting like a little bitch he was trying to make him out to be. Honestly he would like nothing better for the man to slink off with his tail between his legs. He paused and held back another punch. "Ready to get up and take it back, pretty boy?" he asked, a low growl in his throat.

It was then that some old geezer decided to step in and play hero, or so the thugs thought. The ring leader eyed him but frowned when the man mentioned he was going to put Alec under arrest, that being something to shock him admittedly. He didn't ask though and instead stood back from the brunette who was currently spluttering and trying to scramble up. Honestly, he really did NOT know when to stay down. "Arrested for...for what?" Alec asked, managing to catch that half of what the man was saying.

Hearing that the man was carrying a disease, the thugs and a few of the women he'd been kissing immediately darted out the bar to find themselves a doctor, why was it always the less intelligent one's found in he bar? Alec watched them scamper off and he tried to get up, coughing and pulling a face when the blood went into his mouth "Ew." he answered and then looked up as the same geezer leaned over him and then yanked him off the table. "And ...and you are?" he asked, sort of unsteady on his feet which probably made him much easier to carry off but of course Alec wouldn't be able to prepare himself for that.

"Like hell I'm....I'm going with you geezer." Alec answered, wiping the dripping blood onto his sleeve, glad he seemed to have fast acting red blood cells because the bleeding stopped fairly quickly. "And I don't ....I don't have a disease, I coulda' taken those guys....I didn't need an old man's help." He sent him a glare and sort of slumped against the wall, his legs giving way a little bit.

[ofguilt]

The smack across his buttocks stunned Gethen into a foolish hesitation. No one had ever struck him, either in violence or in discipline. High ranking Ikari were considered untouchable in that respect. Servants, slaves, and lower ranking citizens bore any physical punishment for their Lords and Ladies. Therefore, aristocratic children learned cruelty and pride from the moment they left the cradle. Most behaved quite badly and only learned to reign themselves in during adulthood, when they were threatened with the loss of their property or power. But Gethen had been nearly a model child. Not because he lacked faults--he had a plethora of them, but because he couldn't stand to see others tortured for his own mistakes. His father had even forced him to inflict the punishments himself from time to him, in the hopes that he might find a taste for cruelty.

Instead, it had given him nightmares for years. He still suffered through them quite often.

So, when Saron hit him, he could only gasp at the unexpected pain for a moment before the paralysis struck. The shadows closed in and darkness swamped him completely.

**

Gethen awoke groggily in a small room with harsh lights. No, not a room. He recognized the piloting instruments and domed architecture of a shuttlecraft. It took him a bit longer to place the handsome Kharial at the controls. When he did, the memories rushed at him in pieces. Getting lost, the attack, being 'claimed' as a slave. He had failed to get away, and was now at the mercy of this man. Unless, of course, he managed to escape. If he kept quiet for a few moments and observed, perhaps he'd think of a way.

Now that Saron's face wasn't in shadow, Gethen noticed something a bit different about the Kharial. His horns and bone structure didn't quite match the others he'd met. Well, not that he'd seen them all. Perhaps this one came from another country on the Kharial home world, or could he be a cross-breed with another species? He wished, suddenly, that he and this fellow were discussing these innocent details over a glass of wine in the outer rings of the station, instead. He'd always been curious about their culture, their similarities and differences to his own people.

But why had the man abducted him? Him, of all Ikari? While he came from a good family, he was considered a black sheep. As for his looks--well, he had the smooth black hair, red eyes, and pointed features of his caste. Those haughty traits looked fine on the tall, handsome bodies of his relatives. If anything, it accentuated their cruelty and beauty all at once. But Gethen was quite short, slender, with a compact neck instead of the more common swan-like throat. Besides that, his gentle expressions seemed (to him) at odds with his features. Was he good looking? He couldn't really judge, but certainly the Kharial might have chosen someone...less awkward.

Motives aside, Gethen had to make a decision. He could put up a fight again, attack his captor, attempt to seize the shuttlecraft controls. It wasn't the greatest plan in his current condition and he knew it would end in failure. But he had to escape somehow! Perhaps if he played along and tried to befriend his captor, the Kharial would eventually trust him and offer a window of opportunity to run away. But that probably meant enduring all sorts of cruelty. Still, what choice did he have?

He cleared his throat. His voice came out a little harsh, a lingering effect of the paralysis. "My name is...Gethen. You asked before. What's yours?"

After he spoke, he shifted himself up into a seated position against the shuttle wall. At least that was a bit more dignified than holding a conversation while laying on his back.

"If you were to return me to Argolas, I could make you very rich. Wouldn't that be, ah, better? Then you could find a slave more suited to you."

-------

"Lohr. Captain Lohr, that is." The mercenary shoved his I.D. back into the frayed leather coat. He hadn't called himself 'Captain,' since he and the service had parted ways. Well, that was a nice way of describing his departure from their ranks. But, now that he'd made a big scene here in the bar, he'd might as well keep up the title for appearances. At least until he got this youth to his own ship. He almost asked the kid's name, but that would be out of character. A officer chasing him down would already know that little detail. He'd have to figure it out later.

He shook his head as Alec tried to (rudely) claim he didn't need help against a whole gang of thugs. Right. "Look, kid, you need medical attention. Besides, you know what'll happen if I leave you here? Those guys are gonna come back and finish what they started. And by that, I mean they'll rip you into pieces and kick what's left of you out an airlock. So, unless you want that, you'd better not fight me."

Lohr took one look at Alec's unsteady condition and decided to pick him up, bridal style, one arm around his back and the other beneath his legs. He didn't give a damn if that embarrassed the younger man. It'd be the easiest way to get the both of them to where he needed to go.

"Behave, or I'll knock you out," was his only warning. It the boy were to make a scene, he would just stop, set him back on his feet, and slug him in just the right place to send him into unconsciousness. Even if he wanted to take him over his knee and spank a little respect and good sense into him. Well, if he acted like a brat on the journey to his rendezvous, he'd probably do just that.

One way or another he reached his docking port and hauled Alec into the ship. It was a dingy remade alien vessel, barely larger than a decent shuttle. There were only two rooms. The control room, and the 'cargo' hold. The latter was bare but clean, with a high ceiling, decent lighting, a narrow bed attached to the wall, and a chair. Lohr dropped Alec into the bed and went hunting for his medical kit. He'd return with the intention of fixing up the bruises and other damage on his face, if the boy didn't give him any trouble.

If he did, well, another part of him might just end up hurting instead of his face.

[KingCrowley]

Saron managed to get in the coordinates for the nearest space station, he would need war equipment since at the moment his stock was lacking and there had been talk of a dispute between a select few planets. Naturally most races turned to seek an alliance with Kharials and more than likely, it was accepted. Kharials were excellent in combat, weaponry and hand to hand because of their immaculate strength and un restricted knowledge. There was only a small number of races that could match a Kharial in a fight, they were known across the galaxy as the superior race. While the half human had all the strength and intelligence of a full Kharial, the call of war was something that skipped his bloodline and he really didn't have a desire for it.

The Kharial wasn't looking forward to being on the U.S.S Hanguard, working under a human but at least having his slave at his side would somehow make things more tolerable. It was not odd at all for anyone to have a slave and mistreat them how they desired even in human eyes, so he knew having his new 'catch' on board the great star ship, would be no problem at all. His soft green eyes set on the screen in front of him, taking a moment he punched the shuttle into warp just to get there a little faster.

It was at that point, that his new 'pet' awoke and spoke his name. "It is nice to meet you, Gethen." he answered, though not looking at him as he kept his focus on the control. When asked his name he paused before then finally turning around on the chair to face the handsome looking Ikari. "I am Saron, son of Amartha and ...John." he answered, hating his Human Father's name and the fact he was admitting to the human half of him. "But you will call me, Master or sir." he added, a sort of forcefulness to his slightly nasally tone.

Saron rose a single brow at the young alien when he mentioned that if he returned him, then he could make him very rich. The half human shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "My Parents are already wealthy, I do not desire riches, and I do not desire to return or trade my new slave. You are perfect." he informed which was odd because he didn't say it like it was a compliment. "You are my current possession and I shall make your life quite well lived, however if you are naughty, or disobedient...you will be punished." he informed and then turned back round in the chair to keep an eye on the scanners, making sure to keep updated on the distance.

"You will be with me at all times while I serve my time on U.S.S Hanguard." He felt the need to add there, since his slave ought to know where his domain would be. "However, you do not leave my sight, at all times, you will be at my side. Do I make myself clear?" he was thinking he'd need to get his slave a collar of some sort, and a license to prove he was indeed a slave. "Now come here, your Master would like to properly view you."

* * *

Alec didn't like the fact some old geezer was telling him he had a deadly disease and also, telling others about that. Word spread like wild fire in the city. "Captain huh?" he asked, tone clearly unimpressed and he rolled his eyes at the mention of medical attention. "I'll be fine!" he snapped, not wanting any help from a man he had come to hate almost instantly. "And IF those idiots come back, then I'll just take them out, duh!" he was acting like a pouty, sulking toddler but he honestly didn't care. He thought that he could have taken those guys out after he came round from unconsciousness and he didn't need some old man watching his back for him.

At that point, the short brunette fell against the wall a little, his head feeling light and his body feeling very heavy due to the force and amount of hits he'd taken to the face. "Why are you STILL here?" he demanded, a cross look in his youthful eyes. "..Wait..what! Hey! Put me down, NOW!" He demanded immediately as he was picked up bridal style and then carried him out the bar. Of course the young brat struggled and kicked the best he could, up until the point where Lohr threatened to knock him out.

"Oh please, do me the favor old man!" he growled and squirmed. That was in short order though and he found himself dumped on a bed and on a ship, not sure why or how he growled up at the man as he went around both rooms looking for something. "I already said, geezer, I don't NEED your help!" he huffed and narrowed his eyes when Lohr started attending to the damage done to his face.

"I said. Back. Off!" The brat snarled and hocked back before then spitting and hitting the man's cheek. "Now let me get off this damn ship! I don't even know who you are!"

[ofguilt]

Gethen hadn't expected a polite greeting. After he'd spoken, he steeled himself for violence or at the very least, vicious words. Instead he got 'pleased to meet you.' His eyebrows came together in a puzzled way, and he almost smiled--but the Kharial's next sentence knocked that expression off his face. 'Master' or 'Sir,' then? He couldn't even use the man's name. His status as a slave had begun to sink in, and he couldn't help swallowing rather nervously at his own predicament.

"The pleasure is mine, ah, Sir." He forced the words out, not ready for 'Master' quite yet. He almost offered his family name and lineage, after all, Saron had done the same. Perhaps he could even threaten war over his kidnapping. His family didn't much care for him, not personally, but he was still an aristocrat. The Ikari seized upon the most trivial excuses to start a skirmish, even a war. Considering their feelings of rivalry toward the Kharials, he knew in his bones that it could work.

Then he allowed himself to imagine the ramifications for just a moment, and he knew he'd never even try to escape that way. Dozens of Ikari and Kharials could die just over his enslavement, and he didn't want to live with that. He had enough on his conscience without adding murder to the list.

Instead, he asked, hesitantly. "'John' is a human name, isn't it? I thought you might have a dual bloodline. That's fascinating. I didn't think--that is, my species have mated with humans too, but I've never seen a half-human before."

Gethen shook his head when Saron mentioned his wealthy status. So, that method of escape was closed to him, as well. He'd just have to bide his time until he could get away in earnest. The idea bothered him a little. While he was quite different from most of his people, he had his own notion of pride and honor, and deceiving another person didn't fall into either one of those.

He shuddered at the thought of being 'punished,' but at the same time he wasn't surprised. The 'you are perfect,' bit did shock him. But he couldn't think of a good reply for either part. His mouth opened, closed, opened, a bit fishlike and silly before he finally gave up, and just nodded. Then he concentrated on getting to his feet. The paralysis still lingered in his arms and legs, leaving them with a heavy, pins and needles sensation. But he managed after two tries. Then, he tugged the wrinkles from his crimson robes and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Dignity was all he had left.

But, belatedly, he found something else strange in the Kharial's statement. "Did--did you say the 'U.S.S Hanguard'? Isn't that a human ship?" Perhaps he could enlist some of the humans on board into freeing him, or they might prove more...bribeable than Saron. More than that, he had a streak of curiosity at the thought. Kharials serving on human ships, how odd, and he could even observe human culture somewhat.

As ordered, he took a couple of hesitant steps toward the Kharial and stopped. "Is this all right...sir?" Then suddenly his control broke down and he leaned in toward him, grasping his arms. Not out of violence, but desperation. His wide eyes met the Kharial's, trying to plead along with the words. "Won't you please, please reconsider? I'd make a terrible slave! Awful, you have no idea. I'm clumsy, I'm not any good at well, heavy labor. I can't entertain and I've never..."

He wasn't about to finish that last sentence. "I, ah, have no experience in the slave arts! Any of them!"

After a moment, he released Saron's arms and took a step back, realizing he might possibly have given offense.

------

The nerve of that kid! Lohr almost hadn't waited until they reached the ship to teach him a good, hard lesson in respect. He'd never seen anyone Alec's age with that kind of an attitude problem. He couldn't help but feel curious. If he beat the spoiled brat out of him, what kind of personality might he find underneath? Would it match that pretty face, or still be just as sour and untrusting?

Not a question he should be asking himself. Lohr scowled, deepening the scars along his cheeks and jaw. This kid wasn't his charge, or even his slave, just a product he planned to resell for good value. Maybe he'd get a few good punishment sessions in. After that, the traders on Orias would get the dubious pleasure of training him. Good luck to them.

So why did that make him feel angry, almost jealous? Well, at least he had a good enough distraction right here--

In the middle of that thought, Alec spit on him. Of all the-- He could've just locked the kid in the cargo hold and let him bleed, instead of trying to help. Unlike the lad, Lohr had enough self control not to backhand him. His eyes and tone grew flinty instead of just disgruntled.

"I've had enough of your lip. Where I came from, even kids a third your age show more respect. When someone rescues you from your own stupidity, the least you could do is say 'Thanks, I was a rotten idiot.' When they're healing the wounds you got from being an idiot, you don't spit in their face. I don't know who brought you up, but they obviously didn't teach you how to survive."

For a potential slave, that was a dangerous flaw indeed. This kid could easily end up dead if he angered his new master, whoever that was. He could imagine Alec with his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, bleeding out from lacerations, internal injuries. He'd seen that kind of death plenty of times since he'd gotten into this business, and he'd done his best not to pay much attention to those atrocities. But he didn't like this particular mental image. Brat or not, he didn't want Alec to end up dead.

"That's it. You wanna be in pain, I'll oblige you."

Lohr seized the boy's arm, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. His other heavily calloused, rough hand came down in a crack across his backside. With his well-muscled strength, he aimed for it to hurt, even through clothes. He whacked him three more times before pulling away somewhat. Then, suddenly. he released Alec's arm and gripped him by his throat instead. Not enough to choke him, but a hard grip to get his attention. He backed up with him, shoving him against the wall of the ship. He was considerably strong for a human and well-trained. He doubted the kid had enough resistance to give him a good fight, but just in case he did.

"Now, my ship is locked good and tight and I've got an internal weapons system I can activate with just my voice. If you don't obey me, that's what I'll do."

[KingCrowley]

Saron wanted to see every inch of his perfect little pet, wanting to know what condition he was in even if he looked quite perfect. Kharials had very keen eyes and were able to see the pros and cons in most anything, including people. So he called his little slave over and frowned when he suddenly grabbed his arms and begged him to reconsider, but Kharials were very stubborn, as were humans and so being a mixture of the two meant he was incredibly stubborn and he shook his head. "Calm yourself." he ordered, tone stern. He let the younger alien talk his piece and then when he pulled back, Saron turned to face him fully, a compassionate look in his soft eyes.

"I do not require you for heavy labor, for anything that would define being a slave. I require you for company, I would see you more as a pet than anything other and you will always be at my side." He explained, "I will not whip you, I will not mercilessly beat you. But you will be given a hard spanking over your Master's knee if you are disobedient." He felt that his slave/pet should have fair warning about that and he intended to carry out those punishments if Gethen refused to behave or was disobedient. Perhaps he just wanted to have something of his own, perhaps to be completely dependent on him, like the equivalent of a pet dog or cat to a human.

"Now then, I do need to see your physical attributes." Saron said lastly and lifted the young alien's chin, checking his jaw line, his neck, his complexion, the strength in his jaw. It was that point when the half Kharial lifted his new 'pet' and laid him over his knee. "Do not worry, you are not going to be harmed, unless you squirm, or give me attitude." he said firmly. Saron then pulled down his trousers and underwear and almost grinned when he saw the plump bottom. A pale hand rested in the center, feeling the softness, he patted one of the cheeks, quite bouncy. Yes this bottom would respond in effectiveness when given a good spanking. Saron's hand then moved up to his back, the fingers tracing along the spine, seeing the strength.

His new pet was certainly pretty, quite attractive, strong boned but still delicate. The perfect little slave Saron could ask for really. "You are perfect, just as I said." he informed, stroking the soft cheeks briefly and gazing down at the upturned cheeks, the urge to give them a good smack was strong but he had promised no harm to his little claim so he held back on that and instead left him laying like that, over his lap. "You will stay in this position for a few more minutes, I believe you will become quite accustomed to it." he said firmly, pushing the shirt further up his back so the plump bottom was more on show.

How perfect his little pet was.

* * *

Alec disliked this man, a lot and was confused why he had taken him on the ship to help out his wounds, the pride setting in and the feeling that his body could take on the world and more, he really didn't feel like he needed the man's help. He sent a series of growls at him and narrowed his eyes when he started applying medical attention to his face. Obviously his only logical answer was to hurl back and spit on the man's cheek. Something he was going to regret quite quickly. He had no idea who he was dealing with. "Well I wasn't a rotten idiot, so I wouldn't say something like that, obviously." he snarled.

Actually, you wouldn't think it but Alec Jones was actually very sweet and held a sort of innocent child like quality. He just hid it behind his major ego and venomous humor most of the time. It was only people who put him in his place who could actually see that side of Alec, no one had seen it since the day his parents died and his brother left home. Hearing that his pain would be obliged, the brunette frowned a little, not sure what that even meant but found himself gasping when the man grabbed his arm hard enough to leave some bruises. "Ow, let go!"

When his ass was smacked he yelped and gave the man a confused, wide-eyed look. Did he just spank him?....Why? Before he could actually dwell on that, he was released and then suddenly pinned up against the wall by his throat, something that panicked the young man. That panic was clearly evident in his eyes. He grunted at the impact and watched the man's movement while both of his own hands wrapped around Lohr's wrist. "No...I...." hearing about the weapons, the kid shook his head and gulped a little, saying something he hadn't found himself saying in a while.

"Sorry...I-I'm sorry...." He spoke softly. It was the few smacks to the bottom, why did he smack him there? It didn't give him the determination to fight him back, quite the opposite actually. "Wh-What do you ....want with me?" he asked, eyes widening again. He didn't know it but most slave traders and owners would find him quite valuable. He was smart enough to carry out tasks, his strength was good and he would be useful for hard labor. He was a hard worker if it was forced on him and he was in good physical condition. But of course, he had no idea this man was a middle man between slave and owner.

[ofguilt]

"Yes...yes, I'll try," Gethen said, swallowing up his emotions as best he could. Even so, he felt bitter disappointment for several reasons. He kept expecting cruelty, dismissive behavior, and disregard for his own feelings. Instead, Saron responded with kind understanding. The compassion in the Kharial's green eyes was almost more than he could bear. He began to see him as a lonely man who just wanted company. Well, a strange lonely man with a fixation on punishment, but still. He didn't feel comfortable with befriending this person just to betray him later. But, he also couldn't give up on his dream, not for any reason or any person. So it would have to be done. He just wouldn't have the luxury of viewing Saron as a cruel monster.

"For company? Well, that doesn't sound difficult, Sir. I think I can manage. Maybe I'm not the wrong person for you, after all."

He risked a friendly smile, albeit a nervous one. But he couldn't help freezing up a little while his new master explored his face with his eyes and fingers. Gethen wasn't accustomed to close physical contact. It did give him a reason to stare curiously at Saron's handsome features and the horns in particular. He managed to keep a poker face, until the Kharial picked him up and laid him across his lap. Then he squeaked in surprise and struggled just a little--until Saron gave him the warning. After that, he tried to keep still, but he couldn't help but fear his intent. Had he done something wrong already?

The expected pain never came and instead a gentle touch stroked his buttocks and the curve of his spine. His breath caught at the sensation. His cheeks slowly flushed a golden-red. Well, the cheeks on his face, anyway. He couldn't believe that Saron was so fixated on that part of him.

"I, ah...if you really want me like this. Well, I mean, in this...position."

His cheeks flamed redder at his own words. Everything he said sounded quite intimate, more so than it really was.

As Saron lifted his shirt more, he couldn't help but squirm a little at the awkwardness of it.

-------

"Huh." Lohr's scowl eased off a little at the apology. His pale blue eyes showed a flicker of surprise, but just for a moment. He hadn't expected the boy to give in this easily. In fact, he'd been fully prepared to knock him out with the internal laser system. Not that he wanted to, considering all of the mechanical problems his ship had right now, but he'd figured it was necessary. Instead, it seemed that Alec responded well to harsh treatment and discipline. That still didn't change his mind about punishing him. If anything, it proved that the young man needed it, badly.

But he did loosen the grip on his throat and release it altogether. Never mind that he liked the feeling of Alec's hands on his wrist. This wasn't the time to admit that. Besides, he didn't even know the boy's name. It always seemed like a bad time to ask for it. Maybe that was best.

"Well, that's a start. Now, as for what I 'want' with you, you're gonna walk right back into that cargo hold and sit on the bed. Think good and hard about showing respect when you open your mouth. I've got something I need to finish here.

When I'm done with that, I'll come in there and punish you. Defy me and it'll be ten times worse. Now go."

Besides giving the brat time to think about his error, Lohr needed to undock his ship from the station and set an automated course to his next destination. Hopefully the propulsion system would hold up until they arrived at Orias. If not, well, they'd have to worry about that later.

As Lohr's hands worked the cold, dark green alien controls, he couldn't help but think about the warmth of Alec's hands again. He scoffed at the distraction but decided to indulge himself. Pretty soon, it wouldn't be anything but a memory. He rarely told any of the slaves about their destination. Why make it worse for them? Besides, if he said anything, they usually became a danger to themselves, his ship, or both.

Once the ship was past the station and firmly on its course, he stood up, thrust both hands in his pockets and strode into the cargo hold. "You've had enough time to think. Got anything else to say before you get what's coming to you?"

[KingCrowley]

His emotions didn't show it, but Saron was actually overjoyed to have his very own little pet. He felt much more like a full blooded Kharial even if he didn't plan to mercilessly whip or beat Gethen, or force him into hard labor...no, he wanted him to be his pretty little possession. So he kept the young alien man bare bottomed over his knee for two reasons. One, because he wanted the young man to get accustomed to such a position. And two, because it was a good opportunity to properly view the round, soft bottom. He wouldn't admit it but he had a small fetish for a bare bottom, perhaps that was why he had resulted to spanking for punishment.

Smack!

The pale, slender hand came down loudly across the plump middle of the cheeks. Again on the left buttock, and then three times on the right. "I told you not to squirm, did I not?" he asked when he felt his new little pet squirming across his lap. He couldn't pull his hand away from the pale bottom, he kept it placed on the soft globes, rubbing absently. It was so perfect....perfect for spanking anyway. He was delighted with the way the plump cheeks jiggled and bounced under his hand when he had applied those few smacks. "You must learn to obey your master, Gethen. Or this will become quite a regular consequence for you."

His hand continued to stroke the bottom gently before then reaching round to fondle gently with his exposed manhood, checking to see how defined it was. It was odd, because Saron being half Kharial, he did not think it would end up being a sexual feeling for his pet. His fingers stroked up and down the length, taking in the texture and weight of the body part, completely fascinated with his entire body. "You have a very exquisite body, my pet." he complimented and began to cup either testicle in the palm of his hand, a curious look in his eyes. He liked the feel of them.

"Perhaps...you do not need clothes, I am quite content with your body, and the clothes seem to conceal the true beauty." Saron mused.

(( let me know if you're uncomfortable with any of this, I took a risk of making it more 'intimate' since both boys are over the age and it's all legal. But I'll edit if you want me to ^^ ))

* * *

Alec stared sort of worriedly into the man's cold eyes and took slow, deep breaths while his hands tightened on the soft, warm wrist of his 'handler'. Eventually the grip was loosened and then finally he found his neck untouched by a human hand. Well for so long until he started to rub the place he'd been held quite hard. A sort of wounded look glazed his light blue eyes and he watched the other man's movements carefully as he started to explain what it was that he wanted of him. He rose a brow at the man's demands but resisted the urge to make a cocky, or disrespectful comment. "Fine." he managed to grumble.

"Wait what?! Punish!?" Had he heard the man right? Did he just say that he was going to come back to him and punish him? His eyes narrowed a little but he said nothing more on his shock or distaste for the situation and instead stomped back to the cargo hold like a scolded child. "Stupid geezer, who the hell does he think he is?" he muttered darkly once the man was out of ear shot. He folded his arms across his chest as he sat down on the bed. He was meant to be thinking about respect or something....truthfully he wasn't really listening at the time.

Alec thought back to when his parents were alive, a similar situation to this where he had been given three good smacks to the bottom by his Dad and then sent to his room. That was the most of a spanking he ever got though, and it was on the seat of his jeans and with his Dad's hand. All he did was try and make off with his Dad's car, plus he was eleven so why was it such a big deal? The brunette rolled his eyes and thought back to the man. He was quite attractive, in a rugged sort of way, stern and he struck that kind of fear into the young man that made him want to go weak at the knees. Not that he would ever admit it however and he simply tried to think about something else.

Eventually, after getting lost on the thought of if there was a MacDonalds nearby, Lohr returned to the room and asked if he had anything to say before he got what was coming to him. That making the man frowned and he sighed, standing up from the bed to face him. "Actually I do." he answered and leaned his back against the wall. "Is there a macdonalds or something nearby? I'm really craving a burger." he said casually and snapped the waistband of his white boxer briefs against his skin. The waistband had his full name in-scripted on it, well on the inside anyway, something his mother made an impression about.

"What was your name again? Lyle? Liam...Louis....Geezer....y'know, I forget, or wait...did you even mention it?" he asked, facing him.